The Diary of Jane
by penguinfighter-d-chan
Summary: A murder victim plops dead while a pop superstar rehearses her Santa Barbara concert, a case that one Shawn Spencer would give up an arm preferably one of Gus’ to be a part of. Will all clues point to the woman’s very explicit diary? Shassie to develop
1. The one in which Shawn and Gus meet Jane

A/N: First attempt at a **Psych** story...you probably know me from the CSI: Miami fandom but don't worry, I'll try to remain loyal to this awesome series. Will be Lassie/Shawn because I'm a sucker for it. Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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1, The one where Gus and Shawn meet Jane

Twenty and some years ago, eight-year-old Shawn Spencer was walking home from school when he suddenly had the urge to look up his front porch. And once he did, he was greeted with a water balloon full with ketchup. "You fell for that old thing? It's always one step forward, two steps back with you…" Shawn's father, Detective Henry Spencer reprimanded. "Why ketchup?" the tomato-ridden boy asked without hesitation; he should've seen this one coming. "Because sometimes gravity can be your best tool and your worst enemy. And if I were you, I'd run before Mrs. Maloney's Chow Chow catches a sniff from you; that dog loves ketchup."

~000~

"Sweet! I scored tickets to Friday's Jane Janet concert!" Burton "Gus" Guster exclaimed gleefully before kissing his computer. "Say what? Are you for real?!" Shawn Spencer, head 'psychic' over at Psych Detective Agency, sprang to life. "I kid you not, my dearest computer-challenged friend; I placed the winning bid over at eBay Events and now we are set for a night of beautiful ladies strutting their stuff—" "First of all, don't call me computer-challenged because I could've googled our asses on my cell phone by the time you got access to ENIAC over there. Second, I wanna make love to you all-night-long, so preached Lionel Ritchie, for what you just did." Shawn interrupted his partner while wiggling his finger mockingly.

"Anyways, I'm calling Connie…" Gus started off. "Granny-Panties Connie from Accounting over your day job? Might as well go out with Three-Toe Terry while you're at it. Meanwhile, I'll take the spoils, i.e. Hot Marketing Assistant Lady." In that instant, the office phone rang, signaling both of them to shut up. "Psych Detective agency." Gus greeted before a stern female voice scolded, "Gus, it's the Chief, we need you here asap." By here, she meant the Santa Barbara Police Department, Shawn's primary source of income and enjoyment. "We'll be right there!"

Over at SBPD, Shawn and Gus arrived just in time to catch Chief Karen Vick. "Spencer, Guster; my office." The pair did as they were told and were instantly flabbergasted; in the guest seat was Jane Janet, pop sensation, crying her green eyes dark. "And what do I owe the overwhelmingly lucky pleasure?" Shawn dove right into the woman's hands.

"*Sniff* I heard all about your agency with the museum thing so I thought you'd be able to help." Jane Janet replied as she searched her humongous designer bag for something. Suddenly, everyone heard a sarcastic chuckle from the door, "Really?" Head Det. Carlton Lassiter spat while Junior Det. Juliet "Jules" O'Hara nudged him quiet. "Lassie, the pretty single lady is talking to me, wait your turn. You are single right? Or have the tabloids been lying to the unsuspecting public?" Shawn retorted, not taking his eyes off Jane.

"I found this while I was doing my sound-check here in Santa Barbara." Jane finally said as she took out a severed hand stored in a Zip-Lock bag. "OH MY GOD!" Gus yelped, his back slammed against the wall, everyone else drew back repulsed. "Ms. Janet! Why didn't you me about this earlier?!" the Chief yelled while taking the item off the pop star's hands and handing it to Lassiter. "Carlton, take this to CSI—" "Don't psychics need a body part to find a person's spirit?" Shawn subtly shifted his focus to her hands; they looked a bit smudged.

"Ms. Janet, did you cut off the hand yourself?" "Well, yeah; it came from an arm and it couldn't fit in this bag." Jane responded. Lassiter couldn't help but roll his eyes as Gus shuddered. "Good enough. I'll try to do my best but believe me; you've done the right thing…" the fake psychic closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Before starting off his theatrics, Shawn had noticed a particular bruise along the fingers; a post-mortem version of what one would receive if one tripped. "I sense that…this arm…it's telling me something…I'm somewhere with a ledge…I can't see if I'm high or low, hot or cold…" he rambled on, shaking violently to add to the drama. "Really?! Omigawd, you're good! My concert stage has a lot of ledges!" Jane Janet exclaimed cheerfully while the rest of the room's inhabitants were unimpressed.

"At least it's something; you four will escort Ms. Janet to her concert venue. O'Hara, Guston, accompany her while Spencer, you're going with Lassiter." Karen ordered, causing Gus to make a victorious gesture while Lassiter grimaced.

"Um, Chief, I request that I stay with Ms. Janet; you know, to keep the spirits flowing? They cannot be stopped, they compel me…" Shawn argued fruitlessly as O'Hara took the pop star over to her desk. "Nope. You were practically devouring her with your eyes. So until you get there, no more contact with her." She explained.

"Well, let's go, Spencer; don't wanna keep your fan-girl waiting." Carlton growled, grabbing his coat. "Just twenty more minutes and we'll be reunited, my love…" Shawn added dreamily, figuring out how to woo such a celebrity, granted it wouldn't take much, by how things looked.


	2. The one where there's a traffic jam

A/N: Second chapter here! Hopefully, I won't mess this up. Yes, the song is from Breaking Benjamin but it won't be an angst-ridden story. Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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2, The one where there's a traffic jam

Those same twenty minutes suddenly transformed into an hour and a half as a four-car pile-up backed up most of the city's main road. Lassiter was already banging his head on the steering wheel while bearing Shawn's purposely off-key performance of, ironically, The Police. "Would you mind giving me a bit of peace?" the detective hissed as his turn was delayed further. "You didn't say the magic words." The fake psychic taunted from his iPod. " 'I'll shoot you'?"

"Close enough. What's with the stress levels, Lassie? You looked like you were in the Chief's office long before the fabulous Jane Janet came in." Shawn deducted, remembering the detective's posture when he made his presence known. The fake psychic always took a little bit of pleasure whenever he could out of the hard-headed detective. "None of your business…" "Aw come on, we've been working on cases for a couple of years now, haven't we? I thought the camaraderie would've kicked in when I saved your butt from getting fired and shot, excuse the redundancy."

_He has a point…_Lassiter thought for a moment before opening up a bit. "Going through the last stretch of my divorce; lawyer's getting nasty and all that crap." "Oh, sorry to hear that, man." Spencer apologized rather genuinely. "It's no big deal, Vicky and I are technically splitting on friendly terms so it should be over by next week." The detective added with a smirk. "But I thought you were psychic." "I'm the Violent-Vision type, like in 'The Shining', not the read-your-mind type, but thank you for acknowledging it." Shawn clarified. "I wasn't acknowledging anything. And the kid could also read the cook's mind so pick another movie to rip off." Lassiter remarked with a grin. "I'm impressed Lassie, you know Nicholson."

The car was two vehicles away towards freedom when the fake clairvoyant spotted a rogue detail about Jane Janet's story. "Hey Carly, how do you feel about severed hands?" "I find them fascinating." The Head Detective responded sarcastically. "Damn, you made the spirits quiet! Have some manners, Lassie-town!" The psychic was really pushing his buttons so Carlton repeated _I'll kill him in his sleep…_ over and over for twenty seconds until the traffic cop allowed the car to go through.

The rest of the ten minutes were spent while the pseudo-psychic prodded the head detective about his knowledge of movies. _I let something slip and the genie's out…_Lassiter groaned. As he showed his badge to the stadium gate, he tried to get his mind back into the case. The week had not been kind to him; three homicides, two rapes and now Victoria's lawyer had the nerve to bring out some of his not-so-redeeming qualities in court so the cut would be bigger.

Meanwhile, Shawn could already see Gus's hatchback and bolted out of the car from the passenger window. The fake psych almost scooped Jane Janet off her feet. "The spirits were so lonely without you!" Shawn exclaimed. "You too Gussy." "I'll bet." Gus replied with an exasperated tone; he and Jules looked like they had gone through hell. _I'll have to ask him about it later_…Shawn thought as he let Ms. Janet lead the way.

But, as soon as Jane Janet was out of hearshot, Gus said without hesistation, "I'm selling my tickets." "WHAT?! GUS, ARE YOU INSANE?! Did you decide to be a chocolate-flavored guinea pig for that Umbrella Corporation you work for?!" the fake psychic ranted; those were primo seats! "I'm sorry but after an hour and half of hearing that woman talk, I would've sold those tickets too." Jules added to Gus' defense while rubbing her temples in order to soothe a growing headache.

The illusion Shawn had with the pop star was hanging by a thread. "Et tu, Jules?" "You'll see." Gus groaned. The concert hall was a work of art with fluorescent lights and props were laid about. "Has anyone been reported missing?" O' Hara inquired. "Not really; I was just making my sound-check over here and suddenly, that fell." Jane explained as she pointed to the center of the stage.


	3. The one with the body

A/N: Lots of things happening in this chapter XD Sorry for anyone who's squeamish but I couldn't resist. Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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3, The one with the body

Basking in the ardent glow of stage lights laid aforementioned limb, now missing a hand. CSI was already processing the scene but Shawn was more interested in going up and Gus was more interested in getting as far away from the severed body part as possible. "Does this place have an elevator or something?" "Over on the left side but it's closed; my crew can't get up there without stairs." Jane explained.

"That'll be perfect, the spirits will guide me to this hand's missing owner." Shawn replied while making a ridiculous gesture with his own hands. "Then you're going at it alone; I'm not going anywhere near a lame body." Gus argued as O'Hara started interviewing Jane. "Lame implies 'missing or useless leg' like that famous doctor with a cane, my fuzzy pickle of a friend." Spencer argued as he started up the crew stairs. "Shawn, I'm serious; this is dangerous, there's an almost-infinite number of cables and live wires that can kill you!"

0000

"Ms. Jane, I'd like to ask you some questions, for the record." Jules stated as she got her pen and notebook. "Sure but shouldn't I watch the psychic do his work?" the pop star replied. "They'll do just fine. Do you have any enemies, jilted lovers, wronged fans, that sort of thing?" "Well, I don't think I have enemies but I'll need to check with my manager for that." Jane answered, causing Jules to sigh; this was going to be a long interview.

0000

Shawn's face contorted into a silly face and continued upwards. The second layer of lights had their own walkway for technicians so the fake psychic (and unwilling claustrophobic partner) was able to carefully walk across the stage. "This place is an electric engineer's dream! Converters, Lasers, LCD imaging, the works!" Gus noted with a bit of awe. "And you wanted to sell the tickets…" Shawn added with a cocky tone, much to the other's annoyance.

0000

After discussing the case details to Ms. Janet's cast and crew (plus pay $7 for a parking spot), Lassiter finally entered the arena stage. _There's Juliet with Ms. Janet…patrols…crew guys…_Then the head detective realized who were missing and inwardly groaned. "O'Hara, where are the idiots?" Without losing sight of Ms. Janet's attention, Jules quickly pointed towards the stage. The detective then dashed down and met up with some of the technicians.

0000

The pair was able to do a full walkthrough of the second-floor lighting but there was no body to be found. "Damn! I thought for sure Mr. Hand's owner would be here." Shawn remarked. "Oh, now you're calling it names?" "Yes, I feel it makes it a little more personal, not just the disengaged body part of a John Doe who clearly has a knowledge of electronics." "And how would you know that detail?" Gus inquired skeptically. " 'Cause, I got Mr. Hand right here." Spencer earnestly responded as he took out the Zip-lock bag.

The surprise of it all shocked Gus into submission, making him fall to the ground in an unceremonious PLOP! The energy waves then caused a series of chain events that dislodged something out of the fourth light tier. Just as Shawn was helping his friend stand up, a black blob dropped downwards, near the railings. "What the?"

In that moment, Lassiter was walking towards the detached arm when he felt something rushing overhead. He sidestepped just in time to avoid the full weight of a 187 lb corpse land on that very spot. The hole where the arm corresponded exploded with old sticky blood, covering Carlton in splatters of red. From above, Shawn and Gus watched the whole thing and hid in the shadows but not nearly as fast enough to avoid the head detective's death glare.

"JESUS CHRIST, SPENCER! YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!" Lassiter's yell was magnified into a deafening boom. "Actually, it's the body's fault; it decided to say 'hi everybody!' and went PLOOP on it's own." Shawn reasoned in a deadpan tone, fully knowing that if he ever came down from the second floor tier without Jules' swift intervention, Lassie would tear him apart.

"OH MY GOD, IT'S BARRY!" Everyone present heard Jane scream. The pop star's eyes were swollen with new tears as she identified the body as one Barry Connor, second-light technician.


	4. The one with zombies and bad pizza

A/N: LOL...this one's actually a tribute to a fanfic where the author shows off Shawn's ability to shoot. Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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4, the one with zombies and bad pizza

Evidently, the head manager of Jane Janet's tour and career, one Carl McGraw, confirmed that the body was of Barry. The pop star wept through the confirmation process, even more so than usual, as Shawn noticed. "Weird…" he whispered to Gus. "Weird that you're still alive even though you caused a dead body to spray blood and guts all over Lassiter? Yeah, pretty weird." The pharmaceutical rep retorted as they both hid behind Juliet for further protection from the irate Irishman.

"Boys, enough." Jules scolded them as Jane told her story. Apparently, Barry had been missing for a while but because of his backstage position, no one seemed to notice him gone. "CSI will be able to verify your story but for now, we'd like to hold you in custody for the night." Lassiter ordered, clad in a robe as the crime scene unit took away his clothes for evidence. "Just as long as her concert goes on schedule and the press doesn't get wind of this." The manager remarked. "Though the whirring helicopters aren't helping now."

As soon as every policeman and pop star team left, Shawn pulled on Gus' arm and set him aside. "Dude, we're out of the Safe Zone; Lassiter will have every right to kill us if we're not back with Juliet in T-minus 5 seconds!" Gus murmured with a hint of desperation. "She's crying too much." Shawn noted. "That's it? That's your big announcement? She could be one of those bleeding-heart people…" "Not unless she's Angelina 'goddess-of-all-that's-good-in-this-stank-world' Jolie and sadly, she's not. Jane Janet's hiding something from us," the fake psychic added, "And I intend on finding it. But first, I gotta do something solo."

Two hours later, Lassiter heard his doorbell ring just as he finished dressing up into fresh work clothes. Being his usual paranoid self, he stepped lightly and asked before opening, "Who is it?" "Pineapple delivery, if your pineapple isn't fresh, we'll give you your money back!" the snarky door guest replied.

"I should murder you." Carlton growled at the fake psychic, who was indeed holding a pineapple. "For what? My psychic powers got you the body. Granted, it made a bigger splash than the spirits anticipated, pun quite intended." Shawn replied with a smirk. "That body could've landed on me and I'd be seriously injured." "But it didn't so here's your pineapple plus I'm extending an invitation." Lassiter couldn't help but cock an eyebrow. "To what?"

"Follow me and you'll see…" Shawn added with a mock mystic tone. The place was only two blocks down but the head detective had never seen it; it was a pizzeria/deli that had a fair amount of videogames. "Why are we here?" "Because you seemed like such a downer, I took out $20 out of the bank account," "In other words, your entire bank account," " 'actually I had four thousand but' to this joint." The fake psychic concluded, causing the other man to turn on his heel and start off.

"Not interested, Spencer." "Aww! Why not?" Shawn whined. "One, I'm on duty, Two, that slip in the car was a mistake and Three, you dropped a corpse with exploding arm socket action on me. Oh and Four, I hate you." Lassiter responded as he walked away. _Damn! Gotta pull out the big boys…_ "I also wanted to see if the rumors buzzing around the department were true." The head detective stopped for a moment, to humor him. "And what rumors are those?" "That you're blind as a bat when you shoot and that you're all huff and puff."

Shawn enjoyed Lassiter's reaction as the detective edged up and snarled, "Oh really?" At the arcade area, Shawn had converted $10 into tokens as the detective waited. "Pick your vice, Time Crisis 4 or House of the Dead 3?" Carlton gave it some thought and replied, "House of the Dead." As he inserted his coins, Shawn swiftly came up and got 2nd player. "What the hell?" "I also wanna see how good of a partner are you." The pseudo-psychic added as the head detective rolled his eyes.

Once the game started, Lassiter quickly aimed and killed Shawn's avatar. "Sorry, I thought you were a zombie." He added with a grin but Shawn simply shrugged. "Oh I know, but you'll get what's coming." Spencer remarked as he placed his next few coins. After a while, both men were getting into the action and were already killing undead left and right. They were even shouting commands at each other, just to make sure they stayed alive. They were also gaining a crowd as patrons and onlookers watched and cheered.

"Top left and dive, Spencer!" Lassiter barked as Shawn did as he heard. Once the area was cleared, the fake psychic and the head detective took a breather between cut-scenes. "Ok, this boss is pretty fucked up so Carly, I need you to aim straight into the eyes while I get the exposed heart-thing." Shawn relayed, remembering all the times he had tried to beat the game boss with Gus but failing miserably at it. "All right then."

But once the event began, the monster itself was full of eyes, making Lassiter realize that this was Shawn's revenge. "You bastard." "I heart you too, Lassie." Needless to say, the head detective's avatar was killed brutally. Just as he was about to bail, Shawn wordlessly paid Lassiter's next round. "Why'd you do that?" "Because I've never gotten this far and because no one ever fell for that joke." The fake psychic then added, "plus, the spirits are telling me that there might be more to the case than what it seems."

Without much of a choice (and the fact that he was actually enjoying killing zombies), Carlton took up the plastic light gun and said, "Better be worth it." Nearly an hour later, as the two neared the final boss, the adrenaline levels were pumping and they were gearing for the grand finale. "I checked the Internet, this one's the big enchilada. Just shoot the hell out of it." Shawn explained, ecstatic at how far he had gone; he'd be telling Gus about it for weeks. "You are aware I'm just humoring you, right?" Lassiter remarked acridly.

"I know but for now, think this is the monster that ate your wife…" "If you put it that way," "Pretend it killed everyone you know and cared about and made them into zombies that now what to make Lassie-strudel with your flesh and bodies." Carlton rolled his eyes and readied his aim. "Do you even think about you're saying?" "Yes, actually."

Ten minutes later, the monster fell and the whole pizzeria exploded in cheers and applause. "Shawn Spencer, professional psychic now zombie exterminator!" the fake psychic claimed as he struck a pose. Meanwhile, Lassiter was getting used to the congratulations he was getting from random people for winning the game.

"Now can we go back to the case? The Chief must be wondering where I am." "Tell her you were saving the world in exchange for beer and a double-stacked pizza." Shawn grinned as he collected his culinary surprise.


	5. The one with a record

A/N: A little short for my tastes but hey, we'll manage. Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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5, the one with a record

(Because Gus deserves a chapter)

Meanwhile, back at the department, Gus was wondering that exact thing when he saw Jules come in. "Ms. Janet's in custody. So, no word from Shawn?" "Nope. In my opinion, he's dead." "Why?" "He went off on his own, probably to piss off Lassiter." Juliet sighed and made a mental note to assist Shawn's funeral. "So what do we have?"

"Shawn told me that the powers that be told him to check on Ms. Janet's relationship with her crew. Told me that she was too sad." Gus relayed as best as he could. "Really? I thought she was just being emphatic to the other crew guys." O'Hara said, concurring with Gus' line of thought. "But what if she was just belting out crocodile tears for a PR stint?"

Now the pharmaceutical rep was intrigued. "How so?" "I checked her for any records and found her to have a DUI standing from three years ago. From what I see, she evaded jail time due to a plea bargain for attempted manslaughter for driving under the influence." Jules explained as she showed Gus the file. "She hurt someone?" "Yeah, but whoever her legal team was managed to keep the details under wraps. Jane Janet came off looking like a real Hollywood vamp." Jules continued.

_That's something I never heard of… Shawn's gotta hear this one!_ Gus thought. "Now I really want to sell these tickets…" "I'll take them; my wife's been looking everywhere for these and I can't really afford them this week." Buzz McNabb interrupted as he left some paperwork on O'Hara's desk. "How much?" "$150 a pop? They're arena seats." "Sold."

As Gus exited the SBPD and headed to his Toyota Echo, he gave the information some thought but had to dismiss it until he could find his friend, if he ever did. Lately, he had noticed Shawn getting closer and closer to being killed those days. It wasn't that long ago that he had stood up to a biker gang and lived to tell about it. Today's stunt was either a cry for help or for the Reaper.

_I'm just happy to get some day-job work done!_ He assured himself as he turned the car on and sped off, passing by the exact pizzeria where said friend was holding Lassiter hostage.


	6. The one with a diary

A/N: The diary arises X3 Not much to say here...Reviews are welcome!

Characters (c) USA

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6, the one with a diary

As Shawn popped the cap off a cold one, he said mirthfully, "You free this Saturday? 'Cause I really need someone to play Guitar Hero…" the glare he got a response dissuaded the fake psychic to continue the request and offered the beer. "On duty, Spencer. So what are these 'spirits' telling you? And make it quick, I've wasted enough time." Lassiter spat as he stared at his pizza slice. "The spirits told me she was too sad, they tell she's hiding something." "Well, until tomorrow, the only people allowed in that stadium is the crime scene guys so unless you have something more concrete than your usual bullshit, I'm going back to work." The head detective concluded.

"Aw come on, stay for the pizza you earned by blowing strangers' heads off." Spencer encouraged with an earnest smile. "You'll be insulting the cook if you do." In an exasperated huff, Carlton grabbed a slice of pizza, wrapped it in napkins and stepped outside to walk home. "Try as you might, Lassie-face, you can't deny you enjoyed this." Shawn remarked as he caught up.

"I did, I just pictured every zombie's face was yours. That kept me from killing you in the game and in real life." The head detective added with death glare included. "So 8-ish?" This stopped the detective cold. "What?" "You get off work around 8 maybe 9, I was thinking, you, me and an endless tab, courtesy of Gus, of course." "Stay the hell away from me, Spencer; not only are you a fraud but you're probably the cheapest drunk in Santa Barbara if you thought I'd actually say 'yes' to that."

Lassiter then stormed off, leaving a rather unconvinced Shawn in the dust. "Nine it is." As of late, the fake psychic wanted to pursue what he called a hunch; what that hunch exactly meant was a mystery.

Shawn then dialed Gus' phone number and waited until his friend answered. "What is it Shawn?" "We need to go into Jane Janet's trailer; her secret's there."

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Just as night fell, both Shawn and Gus waited behind some wardrobe stacks until CSI left the stadium. "Operation Tattle Tale has begun. Bald Chihuahua, do you copy?" Spencer said in military fashion. "Why the hell am I Bald Chihuahua?" "Because you kept jumping up and down at every passing leaf, like said toy dog species." As soon as the coast was clear, both men sprinted into the massive pink trailer and scurried inside, miraculously undetected.

As they searched around Jane Janet's belongings, Shawn said in an unassuming tone, "I asked Lassie out on a date today." Gus suddenly tripped on a pair of heels but quickly recovered. "You did WHAT? Shawn, no! I'm definitely taking you to a psych ward; Carlton Lassiter?" "More like a beer-drink-off. You should've seen me and him, just wailing on zombies and monsters on House of the Dead!" "And that's the basis for asking the one person that has a real license to kill you on spot, on a date?" "Kinky, ain't it?"

The two kept rummaging around the trailer until Shawn encountered what looked like a diary. "Jackpot!" he exclaimed, calling attention from his friend. "What?" "It's a diary and by the flowery décor, I believe this would be Jane's personal confessionary." "Let me have a go at it." Gus said as he grabbed a bobby pin from the wardrobe desk. A few seconds later and the lock clicked open, as if they had opened Pandora's box. "Oh my God, this is amazing!" But just as they were about to read into its pages, the clock struck 8:30, meaning that, noted by the time Shawn spent observing the CSI and guards, that they were changing shifts.

"I'm sorry Gus but we're going to have to cut this short and I'd like to live long enough to escape Bruiser over there." The fake psychic explained as he pointed to a massive Boxer dog that one of the guards was bringing. Both he and the pharmaceutical rep's eyes widened to the size of saucers when they also saw said dog positively destroy a ham leg.

"Shawn, how are we going to get out of here?" Gus hissed under his breath. "I think I still have Mr. Hand but then we run the risk of leaving evidence of our presence." The fake psychic mused, hand hovering over his throat. "I say we go into different directions-" "Gus, no!" Spencer interrupted. "Why?" "What if the dog actually splits into two man-eating beasts?!" Gus gave Shawn a disbelieving look and returned to thinking of ways of getting out of Jane's trailer.

In that moment, the dog the two named Bruiser wondered off to a corner farther away as its handler started the rounds. "Now's our chance! Gus, I just want you to know…" Shawn started, catching Gus' attention, "that I was the one who scratched your hatchback back in Christmas." "I'll KILL YOU!" "Fido over there might beat you to it if we don't bail right now!"

At the second that the dog and owner disappeared from sight, both friends slowly sneaked out and once the trailer door was shut, bolted like bats out of hell. They ran all the way to the back lot (where Gus had parked), hopped the fence and sped off into the night. "Good thing I have a date with Lassiter, huh?" "You are not getting off scratching my car that easily." The pharm rep glared as he dropped Shawn at Psych. "I'll pay you back…in five-year installments."


	7. The one with a dead deer

A/N: Quick upload just to make some initial Shassie come in...the best is yet to come XD Enjoy! reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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7, the one with a dead deer

While Shawn and Gus waited anxiously to enter Jane Janet's trailer, Lassiter was fuming when he got back to SBPD. "Where have you been?" Chief Vick inquired as he arrived at his desk. "Out killing zombies for cheap pizza, no thanks to Spencer. What are the latest developments?" Carlton replied rather annoyed at the fact that he had enjoyed himself with the fake psychic. In fact, the whole thing made him forget he was actually going through a divorce. He shuddered involuntarily; fun was not something he associated with Spencer. Better words were 'suffering' and 'voluntary manslaughter'…

Karen made no attempt at trying to understand so she answered the head detective's question. "Our girl's got a record, just got it faxed from Los Angeles. The cause of death was poisoning with brake fluid." "So it was a crime of opportunity? But why cut off one arm and leave the rest still attached?" Carlton continued, making note of the information. "I don't know but my guess is that the killer was going to chop the victim up but got cold feet."

"Great…" the head detective groaned; that meant that he would have to question Mr. McGraw and for some reason, he reminded Lassiter of Victoria's lawyer. _Damn! I forgot the divorce paperwork! _He glanced at his watch and remembered Spencer's suggestion for a 'date' (mind you the air quotes). He sighed and decided to make the plans a reality, however annoying the fake psychic was.

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As he waited for his 'date' over at the same pizzeria he and Lassiter had played (and beat) House of the Dead 3, Shawn reviewed the only page he read about Jane's diary; she mentioned something about her 'honey bunny' _I'm no super-hot millionaire socialite but Honey Bunny is pretty special for some schmuck in the background_…

The pseudo-psychic then checked his watch, 8:59 pm, and ordered his first cold one. But at 9 o'clock pm, he spotted a hand covering the bottleneck. "A little early to hit the alcohol, eh Spencer?" "Never too early for Sam Adams, Lassie. My treat or Gus' treat but you get the gist of it." Lassiter eyed Shawn suspiciously; this was not something the slacker normally did so he asked for a strong lager.

"So, how's the case going?" "Not telling you; you'd probably tell Ms. Janet all about it so you can get a quick score." Shawn chuckled at the detective's suggestion. "Damn, that was my original intention when I got into this case. Now, I'm just doing it for funsies." _Now, I'm suspicious…_ "Oh really? And what made you change your mind? Tabloid rumors?" Lassiter argued while downing the first of what Shawn would assume would be of many beers to come.

"Actually, the spirits told me so; they're saying she has a bad rap or something which is weird considering that, since 1998, Jane Janet has solely been a pop artist." Carlton rolled his eyes. "And the fact that _The Daily Enquirer_ told me she had herpes." Shawn saw a smile rise up from his 'date' and signaled the bartender for another round. After a good hour, both men were already having an easy conversation about the game they had beaten along with Lassiter's top five busts.

"And the poor idiot tried to snort all of the evidence before he came into the interrogation room. Needless to say that by half an hour, he was rushed to the hospital for an OD." The head detective concluded as he down his second lager. "Did he do a _Scarface_ impression?" Shawn asked. "An impression? This guy lived for that movie! Problem was that he was low-level thug with a damaged .48 revolver; not even close to the firepower Tony Montana had in his left pinky."

After the next hour, the conversation shifted to more humorous topics and even a trip to the arcade as they played _Mortal Kombat_. "FINISH HIM!" The game's speakers boomed as Lassiter pulled off the finishing move. "And that's how you play this game." Carlton smugly replied as he left Shawn destroyed. "Seriously! Do you have plans this Saturday?! Your fingers are like pineapple butter!" the fake clairvoyant pleaded. "Gus can never finish a Journey song without a cramp!"

Lassiter shook his head as he opened up his third bottle. "The only reason I'm good at these is because I'm a good police officer." "Don't bullshit yourself, Lassie-town; you pulled off a straight-line combo with Scorpion back there!" "I have fast hands." Shawn then pulled up rather childishly and said, "I would like to experience them…sometime soon I hope?" The detective caught on to his mistake and mumbled something under his breath.

After a while, as Shawn looked quite tipsy (he decided to order the same beer as Lassiter), he blurted, "You're the best date ever…no complaining about your ex-wife, just downing some cold ones…" Carlton looked at his watch and sighed, the clock read 11:30. "What's the matter? The night is young and you don't look halfway as plastered than I am." The fake psychic continued. "It's time to go and you look like you're in no condition to drive."

"Night-cap then?" Spencer grinned at the slight pink in Lassiter's face. "Come on, I'll just puke on a bucket." "Tempting but I'll have to drop you off at your fa-" "Don't even finish that sentence; I'd rather have my ass Crazy-Glued to a dump truck than have a hangover with my dad hovering over me." The fake psychic stated with a sober voice. "Fine."

As the head detective headed outside to start his walk home (with Shawn in tow), the younger man's current intoxicated state made him a pain to walk with. "You owe me a kiss." Shawn taunted, extending the word 'kiss'. "No I don't; this wasn't a date anyways." Lassiter spat back. "If you enjoyed yourself, then it was a date. And dates always end with a kiss." "Really? I thought they ended with sex." The older man reasoned, sarcasm oozing. "My personal rule is three dates then hit the sack. Come on, let's hide in a corner and make out!"

This was the last straw and Carlton growled, "And what makes you think I'd go ahead and do that, with you?" Shawn then grinned and replied with utmost sincerity, "Because there could be actual chemistry here. Not like me and Jules or you with your ex-wife; just me and you." "I could arrest you for disorderly behavior…" Lassiter said as Shawn closed in for the kill. "But you aren't going to, are you?" Spencer whispered, so close Lassiter could taste the chicken fingers he had ordered a few minutes ago.

Suddenly, the two heard a screeching car and a loud bump of a noise. Upon further investigation, they spotted a car smashed, caused by what seemed to be a stuffed dead deer. Carlton then used the opportunity to remove himself from Shawn's grip. "See, Spencer? The 'spirits' don't approve so they sent a dead deer to stop you." He mused.

Regardless of whatever happened next, Shawn remained quiet as he trailed Lassiter home. Once the detective opened the door, the fake psychic spun him around and landed a solid kiss on the other's mouth. "Thanks for a great time." he then stepped outside and dialed Gus' phone number, leaving Lassiter with a dumbfounded tomato face.


	8. The one when Shawn gets a date with Jane

A/N: If it seems like I'm uploading way too fast...it's because I'm having battery problems with my computer so please keep this mind if I don't upload as fast as I used to (plus I have other fanfics to update...I'm a horrible writer XD) Anywho, Shawn moves at the speed of light! Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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8, the one where Shawn lands a date with Jane

"So, how'd it go?" Gus asked as Shawn slumped against the passenger side window; he still had a silly smile on. "Nothing special, Gus; just beer and Mortal Kombat. He beat the crap out of me." "You are such a romantic…" In his head, Shawn realized what his previous hunch was and agreed with it; he was infatuated with the no-nonsense detective. And his lips weren't as rough as his manner of speaking, the fake psychic noted.

The next day, Shawn led everyone back to the concert hall, straight to Jane Janet's trailer and to the diary, telling Juliet (as Lassiter was conspicuously absent) and Jane that it was Barry's spirit guiding him. "Oh my God, you're so good…I was wondering if we could have dinner?" the pop star said rather star-struck herself. "As in a date?" Shawn pounced on the opportunity; there was a REAL chance he might get Jane, just as he had planned from the beginning of the case. _Sweet…_ "Well of course, I can't thank you enough!" Ms. Janet added ecstatic. "_Le Chateau_, 8:30 pm?" "S-sure!"

As soon as Jane left, Shawn made victory gestures. "I am on FIRE! First Lassie, then Jane? All I'm missing is Jules and I'll have me a 'ménage trois' or whatever it's called! I'll even wear a suit!" Gus made a disgusted face as he replied, "If you add Jules, it's not a three-some anymore, which is the translation of _ménage trois_." "Still! I'll be dating Jane Janet and you'll be at home, moping over a pineapple smoothie of what could've been." Spencer defended himself. "Speaking of which, where's Lassie-face?"

"Oh! He's at his court hearing to finalize his divorce." The happiness Shawn then felt disappeared almost instantly; he didn't know that last night. _Well, can't let stuff like that ruin tonight!_

0000

At the divorce court, Lassiter couldn't take the previous night's kiss out of his mind. Spencer had snuck up to him and planted it as if it meant something. Even worse, he seemed to…enjoy it. The head detective shuddered and concentrated on the judge's ruling. "By the state of California, I hereby declare this marriage dissolved. Case dismissed." Victoria finally moved to her ex-husband's position and sighed.

"Well, it's over." "I can see that." Carlton hissed as he packed up and dialed Vick's number. "You're going back to work already?" "Yeah, this isn't as big a deal as you and your lawyer make it seem; I am married to the force, remember?" The woman grimaced at the comment. "That was underhanded, I know, but it's the truth." Lassiter was then reminded of the night before and smiled. "It's okay, I'll move on. You take care, all right?" he continued as he placed a light but emotionless kiss on Victoria's forehead, then headed out the door.

0000

Det. O'Hara was finishing the paperwork on Jane's diary when the head detective sprinted over to his desk. "I'm so sorry-" "Save it, O'Hara, I'm fine." Lassiter replied with a slight assuring smile. "What's that?" "Shawn found it with help from the ghost of Barry Connor; it's Jane Janet's diary." The detective glanced at it and gave Juliet a knowing look. "Did he pull off theatrics?" Jules laughed for a second and replied, "Of course he did but that's how the spirits work, I guess. They even got him a date with Jane herself."

_Damn, Spencer moves fast!_ Lassiter thought as he choked on his cup of coffee. "What? Are you a fan?" "No…" the head detective had to stop right there if he didn't want to spill any more about the previous night. "I was just commenting how fast he conned his way into Ms. Janet's pants." He added to save face before taking the diary and giving it a look-see.

Inside were the inner workings of a pop star whose lineage was a who's who in Hollywood; her father was 1970's mega-producer Tom Janet and her mother was Lucy Janet, part of the Divas, one of the first all-women cabaret-style groups in the business. _Spencer sticks out of this group like one hell of a bad apple…_Lassiter thought as he paged on.

After a while, the detective began noticing a distinct pattern; every one or so years, Jane would get a boyfriend and call him something sickly sweet, such as Honey Bunny or Pearcey Poo (Carlton especially wanted to barf with that one). After a couple of weeks' worth of pages, the person would never be mentioned again and Jane would chalk it up to 'being dumped' and move on to another ridiculously nicknamed guy.

"Holy crap, I'm going to need something sour to get out this sugar coma." Lassiter remarked; he was now during the 'Waltie baby' pages. "Oh really? 'Cause sometimes sour can be sweet too, kinda like a Kauai Pineapple. " He heard Shawn's voice and glanced up. "Don't you have a date to go get prepared for?" Lassiter replied under his breath. "Or better yet, a real job to go to?"

"Ha, ha; the spirits are telling me that you're…really? Are you sure?…they say you're jealous?" Shawn continued to 'channel', arousing a sarcastic laugh from the head detective. "You have no tact, Spencer. Last night was a huge mistake and you won't deny that. Plus, today, my many years in marriage just went up in the air in less than twenty minutes so if I were a smart, like Guster over there, I'd avoid me at all costs."

Shawn then dove right into Lassiter's ear and whispered, "I cannot deny that last night existed but I also can't deny that we both had a great time." "Get out." The older man gritted through his teeth, red unconsciously rising up from where the fake clairvoyant's breath landed. "Fair enough." Shawn then caught up with Gus headed straight into Chief Vick's office to ask for a leave; he just didn't tell her why.


	9. The one where Shawn almost gets killed

A/N: the plot thickens...from all the episodes I've been able to see, if Shawn isn't being an idiot on purpose, death will surely follow him anyways because It had a boo-boo with when they were little and Shawn accidentally sprayed sand over it. Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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9, the one where Shawn almost gets killed

_Le Chateau_ was a fine French bistro half an hour from Psych detective agency, smack dabbed in the middle of the posh sector of the city. Finely dressed in a suit and shirt, Shawn entered the restaurant to a waiting Jane. "Wow, this is so amazing; the restaurant's fine too." The fake psychic noted as he took a seat next to the pop sensation. "I know, right? There's one just like it in LA but I think this one's better." She replied as she sipped from her water.

"Glad to know that Santa Barbara's culinary arts are better than all that glitz-town trash food." Spencer remarked, basking in the full glory of being with that woman…though something felt off about it all. As the night progressed and the two made small talk, the nagging feeling in the back of Shawn's head began taking over.

0000

Over at the police department, Gus was eyeing Jane Janet's diary while Lassiter and O'Hara were away for a moment when he spotted a coincidence. _Hmm…Honey Bunny's entries stop right around the time Barry Connor disappeared…_he thought for a moment. Then it hit him and Gus grabbed a nearby computer. He started searching around the Internet while skimming through the diary. "What are you doing, Guster?" the pharm rep heard Lassiter from behind.

"I think there's a connection." "Don't tell me you're psychic too; I honestly thought you were the sane one." Carlton grimaced. "No; Shawn's the psychic, but take a look at this." Gus defended himself. "You read the diary, right?" "Unfortunately. Guy comes in; she gives him a nickname, a couple of weeks later, Poof! He's gone." Lassiter responded while rubbing his temples together. "What if we superimpose Barry's disappearance to the last entry Jane made about Honey Bunny?"

The head detective understood what he meant and followed the lead; indeed, the entry date matched the time of death. "But she's had ten boyfriends over the last five years…you don't think?" Gus tried to reason. "This means Spencer is dating a serial killer." Lassiter mused with a mix of glee and begrudging worry.

0000

Their dishes arrived just in time as Jane began another 'riveting' story about her last world tour. In other times, this date would've been number #1 on Shawn's Top Ten Greatest but that night, he wasn't feeling the pop star, as he should. Instead, whenever she droned on about her life, the fake psychic went back to that inconspicuous kiss he had planted on Lassiter's mouth and how warm those milliseconds felt.

"You really like pineapples, don't you?" "Just as much as I like you." Shawn added coyly; this one was in the bag. Just as he moved in for a kiss, his cell phone unfortunately began ringing off the hook. Caller ID read a number he did not recognize so the fake psychic took the call.

"Shawn Spencer, psychic extraordinaire." "Spencer." Shawn's eyes lit up involuntarily as he replier, "Detective Lassiter! I told you, no psychic readings after 8 pm!" "Be quiet, I'm saving your ass. Your date's a serial killer." The head detective snarled.

"Lol-what?" Shawn then excused himself from the table and went outside. "What are you talking about, Lassie-Lassie Quite Contrary?" "Guster and I made a connection with the victim's date of disappearance with the last entry on the diary; he's running the others right now." Lassiter explained over the phone, surprising the fake psychic.

"You're kidding, right? Jane Janet would never hurt a fly, not unless it was in the way of…" "Spencer, she has a record of attempted vehicular manslaughter; she's quite capable of hurting others. Either cut your losses or the next crime scene _will_ be yours." Carlton concluded with a hint of contempt.

"You and Gus are just jealous!" "Of what?" Shawn heard Gus exclaim from the background. "Gus, you're jealous 'cause I'm going out with a celebrity and Lassie, you're jealous because…" Shawn never finished the sentence because in that exact moment, a man dropped dead…while enjoying the same pineapple dish Shawn was about to consume.


	10. The one where Lassie makes a move

A/N: Sorry for the belated update but computer death wasn't part of my plans XD Finally some reciprocation! Reviews are welcome! Yes, I was referring to House on Chap 3.

characters (c) USA

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10, the one where Lassie makes a move

As Shawn watched pathetically his potential lay be carried away by two police men in handcuffs, Gus moved in with a smirk on his mug. "You're welcome." "Never," Shawn hissed, then realized who was absent on the smug-fest. Without even uttering a word, the pseudo-psychic put on his helmet and rode his bike all the way back to SBPD. There he found one Carlton Lassiter, quietly filing away some paperwork, a small smile on his face.

"You are aware that you just shut down my one and only chance at banging a celebrity…ever." "I consider that an accomplishment." The head detective responded as he sealed Jane Janet's arrest warrant. Almost immediately, Shawn realized that most of the police department had left to watch the spectacle that was the pop star's conviction and decided to make the best of the moment.

"You just wanted me all to yourself, eh Lassie? Never pegged you for the jealous type…" Spencer gloated, coaxing a reaction from the detective as he made his way to the Chief's office. Having had quite enough of the fake clairvoyant's shenanigans; Lassiter tossed the folder onto the desk, marched his way back to his desk and grabbed Shawn by the arms. What followed was what Shawn called the BEST 15 SECONDS OF THE ENTIRE HISTORY OF EXISTANCE; Lassiter crashed his mouth onto his, forcing it open. The lip-lock was so intense that it left the younger man breathless and resorting to using the desk as leverage.

Shawn couldn't remember much after that (mind was too blurred by the sheer passion of it all) but just as suddenly as the kiss started, the detective pulled away and whispered in Shawn's ear in such a way that he shuddered, "Next time you want to date a serial killer, don't do it on my watch." Shawn then watched as Lassiter headed straight into Karen's office. The fake psychic wobbled out of the police department, ignoring the throngs of people clamoring to see Jane arrest.

0000

"I'm telling you guys, I didn't know where Honey Bunny, I mean, Barry was!" Jane repeated for the third time. The pop star had confessed to all of the relationships but no matter how hard Juliet tried, Janet would not acknowledge their untimely deaths and disappearances. "That's it, we want a lawyer." Craig McGraw ordered; annoyed at the newest annoyance to the concert tour. "Don't worry about the lawyer 'cause by the time he gets here, there'll be at least 5 first-degree cases with your client's name all over them." Lassiter smirked as O'Hara left the interrogation room. Outside, she met up with Shawn and Gus, both watching the scene unfold. "She's a tough nut to crack," Jules remarked. "Looks can be very deceiving." Shawn added distractedly.

"Why? Are the spirits telling you something?" "No not really though I was expecting them to clamor up in here; they're quite chatty when it comes to a fellow dead guy." The fake psychic replied in the same tone as before. Gus took his friend's nonverbal cues and requested a cup of coffee. "What's wrong, Shawn?" "I'm think I'm falling for Lassie." The sales rep rolled his eyes; Shawn was jumping to conclusions. "One date is not enough to make a normal, sane person say that." But the sincere look over his friend's eyes told Gus otherwise. "Suit yourself but don't come running to me or some random hooker if this doesn't pan out the way you want." "I have Jane Janet for that." Shawn concluded as he focused on the case.

In that instant, Jane wept for a moment and whined in a pitiable voice, "I wish Shawnie-Shawn was here." Shawn immediately froze up; Jane Janet wasn't the killer but she might as well be. "I'm dead." "What?" Gus reacted before comprehending what just happened. "She gave you a nickname…you're definitely next."


	11. The one where ShawnieShawn is screwed

A/N: Shawn must be thinking "Oh shit." right now...Trying to upload as much as I can before the major projects roll in and screw me over again. Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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11, The one Shawnie-Shawn is royally screwed

"It could all be a coincidence." Shawn argued fruitlessly. "Fat chance there, Spencer; all the victims coincide on the same factors: all were crew members except for the restaurant guy; all dated Jane Janet save for the one at the restaurant which was meant for you and Barry was killed with brake fluid quite similar to the one found on the pineapple dish." Lassiter read out loud, causing the fake psychic to become two shades paler. Suddenly, Henry Spencer burst into the police department and demanded to see his son.

"Ok, who called my dad?" Shawn groaned; as if being the target of a serial killer wasn't enough of a downer. Juliet raised her hand rather guiltily. "You're coming home, Shawn." The senior Spencer growled. "Hell to the no, daddy-kins." The fake psychic retorted annoyed. "Shawn, you need to be in police custody, otherwise you're as good as dead out there." Henry argued; typical Shawn to reject normal trains of thoughts. "Then I'll stay here! Jane's not the killer and your house is getting fumed!" "No, it's not and on what evidence do you think you have that makes you think that woman's not the killer?"

Shawn was quiet for a second then replied, "The spirits told me." Both Spencers knew that the other would not back down to the son quipped, "I'll stay in Det. Lassiter's custody." The head detective jumped at the notion and yelled, "THAT'S IT! NOW WAY IS SPENCER COMING WITH ME!" Henry turned to an otherwise observing Chief Vick and inquired, "Fine by you?" "Of course," Karen replied, arousing a glare from Carlton.

0000

That night, Shawn was dropped off by a cautious Gus in front of the (furious, mind you) head detective's place. "You're going way too fast and going in too deep with this prank." The sales rep warned. "Life is meant to be lived. Besides, it's either Lassie or the brake-fluid-Jane-Janet-stalker killer." The pseudo-psychic replied before heading for the door. But just as he was about to knock, an extremely aggravated Lassiter swung the door open. "That's creepy." "I can't disagree on that one, Gussie dearest." Shawn replied smiling.

"Are you two waiting for the killer to show up or something?" Carlton's voiced especially gravelly for the occasion. "Nope, just bidding Gus a final farewell." Shawn quipped as he sprinted inside. Gus rolled his eyes and took off, hoping Shawn wouldn't do something stupid, like getting shot in the head by Lassie.

Meanwhile, a shadowy person watched the whole scene from afar and grunted in disappointment; its latest victim was out of reach…for now.


	12. The one with a really long title

A/N: Uploading this one real quick due to homework and stuff. A nice little shassie chapter for the soul XD hopefully Shawn will last long enough to see this through. Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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12, the one where Lassie thinks over the last 72 hours

Lassiter clenched his jaw at the mere concept of Spencer spending the night in HIS house. The little weasel had the nerve to slink into the head detective's personal matters in less than three days. _But it's been fun…in a twisted sort of way_, Lassiter thought as a smile crept up his face. From the pizzeria to beating _House of the Dead 3_, he had to admit that the fake psychic had provided him some much needed stress relief.

But what petrified the detective were those two damned kisses, specifically the one _he_ planted on Shawn earlier that day. Both were charged both with two very different intentions: Shawn's was quick while his lasted more than ten seconds. _It has to be the divorce…_ Lassie reasoned as he went for some coffee. _It was merely my response to Spencer's advances_, he tried to brush off his little misdeed but the bigger question arose. _What exactly _are_ his advances?_ Thanks to Chief Vick, Carlton had the night to find out.

0000

"Ground rules; no funny business, you sleep on the couch and if you even so much as step one inch out of my house, I'll personally duct tape you sorry ass to a chair for the remainder of the night. Got it, Spencer?" Lassiter warned as he took out some leftovers to eat. "No problem-o Lassie. Just two questions," Shawn replied. The detective groaned and allowed the 'psychic' to speak. "One, may I use your kitchen? Two, does your TV have AV receptors and three, where'd you learn to kiss like THAT?" Lassiter's face flushed at the mention of the police department incident and growled, "That never happened. And why would you want to use my kitchen?"

The fake-psychic smiled as he took out some ingredients, and said "'Cause I'm such a good guest that I'm cooking for you." Carlton arched an eyebrow and retorted, "You can do something other than defrost and boil water?" The proverbial pineapple popped into Shawn's hand as he replied, "As a connoisseur of the pineapple, one must learn to cook with such a fickle ingredient."

Half an hour later, the kitchen was permeating with the sweet smell of the fruit as Shawn managed to create Wok-fried Chicken in Pineapple Sauce, further impressing the head detective. Even more was the fact that the dish was decent (though it tasted a little off with the beer). "Congrats Spencer, you just became less of a nuisance." Lassiter praised as he ate the last of the chicken. "Glad to know that my talents extend beyond the call of the dead." Shawn remarked, observing Lassie's reaction to his food.

Shawn knew he had a bit of an infatuation with Lassiter but this just made him feel all warm and tingly inside. He also knew that monogamy was overrated…but with the hard-headed detective, there was a chance of making an exception to that rule. Carlton offered to wash the dishes, something the younger man had no qualms about (in fact, he actually disappeared to the TV room to uplink his Xbox 360 to the television to meet up with Gus for a Halo-Noob-Killfest). "What a child." Lassiter rolled his eyes as he started his task. _No sign of the suspect around these parts…must've been intimidated by the whole police custody_, he thought as he lathered the plate with soap.

Suddenly, he felt two arms wrap around his waist, causing him to reach for Hidden Gun # 5 under the sink. "It's ok, Lassie-town." He could practically picture Shawn's grin at his reaction. "You have five seconds to get off or I might just beat the killer to his objective." Lassiter growled under his breath. "I'll take my chances." The fake psychic added while burrowing his face on the other's back. _My, my; Lassie's ripped!_ Shawn made a mental note.

"This is just another one of your elaborate pranks, though I'll give you props on the commitment." The head detective continued, trying to break the embrace. "What if it wasn't?" Shawn inquired, turning his prey around. "What then?" "Then I'd tell you that you're barking up the wrong tree, Spencer." Shawn's face changed to one that read, "Bullshit," and drew closer. The fake psychic noted that Lassiter did not struggle in the least bit and went ahead with his plan. He closed his eyes and laid his lips on top of the other's, sharing a kiss. But unlike the previous two, this one had a new sense of intimacy between the both of them.

Almost instantly, Lassiter raised his hand and took hold of Shawn's chin and caressed the perennially scruffy skin. The fake psychic cocked his head just right, causing the head detective to place his right hand on the back of his head and deepening the kiss. The moment was broken at the sound of the game uploading to the Xbox Live Service. Shawn opened his eyes and sprinted to the TV set, leaving Carlton to think about what just happened.


	13. The one with Shagwell and Kasyanov

A/N: Record timing! Must...finish...homework! Anywho, we're getting close to the big finale for the case so beware of Shawn's and Gus's brand of stupidity! Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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13, the one with Earnest Shagwell and Mir Kasyanov

After a few of hours of online playing, Shawn let out a deep yawn, signaling him to go sleep. His mind shifted back and forth between that sweet moment and Jane Janet's case. He knew she wasn't the killer so that meant someone else in the pop star's crew had to be the actual killer. But that person had to have known of Jane's diary in order to pick his or her victims; something wasn't adding up. Just as the fake psychic was about to enter Lassiter's study, the head detective appeared behind him. "You mind telling me where you're going?" "Uh, the spirits of this house are telling me something about the case. Do you by any chance have any records of Ms. Jane's tours over the past five years?"

The detective suddenly began chuckling; the whole incident in the kitchen was as bogus as Shawn's 'powers'. "I should've known that you were just luring me to free your pop-star girlfriend." The fake psychic was genuinely hurt by the accusation. "What?" "You heard me; you were using my state of mind against me so you could get evidence to exonerate Jane Janet." Now Shawn was pissed as he argued, "Or maybe I'm just trying to save my skin from being force-fed brake fluid until I die!" That detail eluded the normally suspicious detective; Spencer was right.

"That was uncalled for, I know." Lassiter knew better than to apologize but Shawn quickly saw his regret and took it astride; he didn't have the best track record in history. But that kitchen moment was bliss for both parties; neither stopped thinking about it, how each other felt nor how their bodily functions reacted. Shawn broke the silence with, "Told you there was chemistry." "Three days isn't enough, Spencer and right now, I'm not in the mood for a fling with the person that annoys me the most in this world." Lassiter shot back as he headed back into his room. "Then what will? What would make you even consider giving this a chance? I know I'm game." The fake psychic asked serenely but his real message was_ 'This is your only chance to cut this whole ordeal off and we can go back to before…'_

At that point, the head detective thought about his divorce, his work and for the first time in years, he decided to chuck all of that out the window and let it get hit by a speeding truck. "No more tackling. You already fucked up my back once; I'd like to recover in peace." With that, Shawn quit his search and settled on sleeping on Lassiter's couch. He got a bit of additional benefit as the head detective motioned him into his bed room.

0000

The next morning, Lassiter had to practically drag his previously unwelcome guest to the police station; 6 am was an hour that Shawn had forgotten that existed. "So, how was the night?" Juliet O'Hara inquired as she handed her superior his coffee. "Uneventful; the idiot played himself Halo to sleep. So, how's our suspect?" The head detective responded, thoroughly hiding a slight smile. A grimace came over Jules' face when she replied, "She's free." Lassiter spat out most of his drink before yelling, "HOW?!" "Mr. McGraw got her the mother of all defense teams; she walked out last night due to circumstantial evidence. Her concert's still on for tonight" The junior detective explained; she personally had to escort the pop diva out of her cell.

Once Shawn heard that however, he knew his hunch was right, someone else had to be the murderer. _But who?_ Then it hit Shawn, the brake fluid was his breakthrough. He groggily dialed Gus's number and said, "Dude, we have to check the other crew people. Preferably one who knows about car mechanics." After a moment, Gus had to ask, "Who are you and what have you done to Shawn?" "Lassie made me wake up at this ungodly hour." Shawn moaned while heading to the break room to catch whatever sleep he could until his friend arrived.

But the fake psychic still had a smile on his face; last night, Lassiter offered to let him sleep in his bedroom and Shawn quickly accepted the invitation. But instead of doing the dirty, he merely slipped into the sheets and dozed off almost immediately because he was worn out from playing 4 hours, 25 minutes straight Halo and other co-op games and because he wanted to prove to Lassie that he could be a sane person given the chance, not just a floozy. Why take such a precaution? Because Shawn Spencer was now in love with Carlton Lassiter. _Next time, you won't be so lucky, Lassie._

0000

"What makes you think is the mechanic?" Gus inquired to a dozing Shawn. "Because he was looking Jane weird when we were talking to her back the concert hall. He knows something." The weary Spencer replied. "So, what happened last night besides you and me owning at least a hundred newbies?" the pharmaceutical rep asked, noting that his friend was very much alive. "Nothing really; I went to sleep after logging off." Shawn lied with a sleepy grin.

Once at the concert arena, the two hurried off to the tour bus where the lone mechanic did his work. "Excuse me but are you the caretaker of this fine vehicle?" Shawn inquired with a thick English accent. "If you mean if I'm the mechanic, then yeah. Who're you two?" the tall medium-build man responded. "I'm Earnest Shagwell and this is my comrade Mir Kasyanov; we're here for one Barry Connor's position. I wouldn't try to talk to him, speaks only Russian." Shawn answered, performing exorbitant hand gestures while Gus glared at him. "Oh yeah? Heard what happened to him. He's the fifth person that's disappeared in this tour. Poor Jane must be broken up about it. I'm John Turpike."

"And how would you know about Ms. Janet's feelings in the matter?" the fake psychic continued, noting that John's hands were laden with oil and, of course, brake fluid. "Well, I'm her cousin." "You're her wha?" John smiled for a moment then added, "Yeah, I don't look like it but me and Jane go way back; she went to showbiz and I went to mechanical engineering. She even got me to do my practice year with her." This was a brick wall to Shawn's suspicions; John did have some traits that Jane had plus if the story checked out, he would have no reason to kill any of Jane's boyfriends.

"But between you and me, someone's trying to sabotage Jane." John remarked, renewing the fake's psychic's interest. "Why do you say that?" "Because for two or three stops, Mr. McGraw keeps making delays for brake failure; I can't really keep up anymore so I just patch it up and wait for the next city to get new brake fluid container." Shawn gave it some thought and bade the mechanic farewell; definitely someone on the inside.

"SHAGWELL?! Dear God, Shawn, you actually slept with Lassie?" Gus's scolding interrupted Spencer's train of thought. "I knew you'd get that _Austin Powers_ joke but alas, I'm still a virgin in that department." Shawn replied with a smile. "But are you and him, you know?" "We're working the kinks out of the overall but I can't say for sure." The fake psychic continued before focusing on the case once more. "Gus, do you still have my concert tickets?" "Why?" The sales rep pronounced, perplexed. "Then dust off your dancing shoes because tonight we're infiltrating Jane Janet's concert, a la _Splinter Cell_." "Don't you mean _Alias_?" "Well if you want to be Jennifer Garner, you're more than welcome."


	14. The one that goes live in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

A/N: Lassie's got skillz. Remember that stupidity I mentioned on the last chapter? Well, here you go. More Shassie moments for all! (gets reminded on impending work) Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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14, the one that goes live in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

Two hours later Shawn arrived from buying a disguise and explaining to Gus about his plan when he heard rock music emanating from Lassiter's home; specifically Metallica's _No Leaf Clover_. He hurried inside and watched as a certain head detective played the first couple of riffs on Guitar Hero. "Lassie-town? What are you doing?" "Playing a _real_ metal song, none of that garbage you and Guster keep playing." The detective said between stanzas. Shawn had to finally ask, "How do you…?" "I have a couple of nephews who think ol' Uncle Lassiter can't play for shit. Granted, I personally don't own any of the games." Spencer then watched as Lassiter positively ripped through the song with High Voltage crowds and near perfect records.

After the song concluded, the head detective turned off the device and took a gulp of his beer. "What is it, Spencer?" "Nothing really just that Barry's spirit told me all about tonight's concert." The fake psychic 'divined'. "Fascinating; if you actually decide to go, I won't hold myself responsible for your death." Lassiter remarked, rolling his eyes at the mention of the 'spirits'. Shawn shrugged; nothing had really changed between them other than the obvious: he was still the 'psychic consultant' with the police department and Lassie was still head detective.

"Hey, Lassie, you know I wasn't lying last night, right?" Shawn asked to assure himself. A honest smile came over the detective's face as he replied, "We all have our misgivings (you being a pathological liar & con artist and me being Santa Barbara Police Department's Head Detective) but I actually do believe you this instance." He even placed a peck on Shawn's forehead to prove the point. "Why?"

Spencer grinned from ear to ear as he returned the gesture, "I just wanna make sure you see fireworks tonight." He added cryptically, arousing a deep red on the older man's face. "Going a little fast there, Spencer; what happened to dinner and a night-cap?" Carlton scolded half-heartedly. "Don't be such a prude, Lassie-face." Shawn remarked before picking up his stuff. "And aren't you supposed to be back at your desk? Lunch-time's over."

Still reeling from his divorce proceedings, Lassiter made no attempt at bidding the pseudo-psychic good-bye...and Shawn preferred it that way or he would've peeked into the bag and the bust would have to be canceled.

0000

Everyone at Jane Janet's dance crew were on the verge of total chaos; Mr. McGraw was barking orders left and right to get the show going as planned. "You ready, Jane?" He inquired as the singer was in make-up and hair. "Yeah!" she replied rather perkily. "Good. Are her voice tracks good?" "Yeah!" a random sound guy replied with thumbs up.

"I can't believe it…she lip-synchs…" Gus whined, unable to deal with the revelation. "Dude, of course she lip-synchs; with 45 stops, who wouldn't?" Shawn retorted as the two walked over to the dance director one Mariana Ramirez. "Excuse me but who they fuck do you think you are?" she hissed as Shawn and Gus strutted over to the rehearsals. "I am Alejandro De Sevilla Cantarrana and this is Julio Rodriguez Puertas, dance specialists from Spain. We are here to replace two of your dancers." The fake psychic responded with a ridiculous Spanish accent and motions.

Mariana checked her roster and evidently, two dancers had caught the flu the other night. "All right, go to the back and watch. Start off with a kick spin, slither down, spread eagle then _plié_ back to formation." The dance instructor's instructions were lost to Shawn, who was busy watching all the characters. John was helping out with the lights and Jane was coming out of her dresser room. Shawn then turned around and crash-landed in the pop-star's manager. "I am so sorry!" the fake psychic exclaimed as he tried to help the man with his dropped items…including a syringe full of a blue transparent liquid. "Just get back to work." McGraw growled as he hastily left the stage.

"Gus, it's the manager!" Shawn whispered to his dancing friend. "Not right now Shawn! I'm trying to memorize the steps." Gus replied seriously. "Are you kidding me?! The killer's been right in front of us the whole time!" This discovery stopped Gus in his tracks. "Then what are we going to do to catch him?" "First we do the first song, and then during the break we confront him." Spencer strategized. "And after that?" the undercover sales rep asked. "I'll pretty much make it up as I go along." Shawn replied nonchalantly.

0000

The event was to be broadcast on every local channel as one of the rookie cops turned the TV set on. Both Juliet and Lassiter were investigating further into the other disappearances related to the Janet case when they heard the concert come alive, with crowds cheering for the star. "Can't believe that they're rooting for…a…" The head detective started off until he actually watched the screen. To Carlton's horror stood both Spencer and Guster in the background, on stage with the suspect as the fireworks went off.

"I have to go now!" He roared, enraged and with renewed motivation to kill the fake psychic. "Why?" O'Hara inquired before she saw what he saw and gasped. Suddenly both detectives heard Chief Vick scream with fury; she too had seen the television broadcast. But by the time both women took notice, Lassiter was already speeding away in his car, just itching to wring Spencer's neck.


	15. The one that goes on payperview

A/N: The conclusion to the case is revealed...as Shawn and Gus make asses of themselves on national tv. Reviews are welcome!

characters (c) USA

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15, The one that goes on pay-per-view

Just as Shawn planned, the first song went without a hitch, granted that he and Gus took some 'liberties' with the dance moves. But once the dancers disappeared off stage to allow Jane her solo, the pair quickly broke off the group and ran out of the main stage. "Dude, I think I'll never be able to have children thanks to these pants!" Gus complained as he painfully followed his friend. "By now, I just wanna be able to feel my junk again." Shawn remarked; the choreography outfits were obviously meant for the people they belonged to.

They ran out to the back stage portion, all the way to the transmission cabin where McGraw was directing the show with the technicians. Shawn and Gus were about to bust in when Jane burst on stage, "I dedicate this song to my Honey Bunny…hope you like it in heaven." Most of the technicians looked at each other with confusion, even more so when McGraw snarled at the comment. _That's the motive! _Shawn thought up and decided to bust in and scream, "YOU KILLED ME, CRAIG!"

0000

In that same moment, Lassiter arrived at the concert hall and stomped his way to the back entrance. "Backstage pass please." The bouncer, who looked like a wrestler on steroids, ordered. The head detective turned his head with a single jerk as he flashed his badge. "No can do, sir." The bouncer spat back. Already teetering on momentary insanity, Lassiter grabbed the man by the collar and roared, "Listen to me you overgrown waste of space, if I'm not allowed back here in this instant, two things will happen to you. One, I'll have you arrested on obstruction of justice or two, I can blow your head off by the time you ask me for my backstage pass again." The man, remembering his own stint in jail, swiftly allowed Lassiter through the door.

0000

"Who the hell let those two in here?!" McGraw shouted, motioning for two guards to take the intruders away before he recognized Shawn from the investigation. "You're the police department's psychic, aren't you?" "Right now, Shawn's not here." Shawn said in an unnatural voice then added, "it's me Craig, good ol' Barry." The manager instantly paled; Shawn's latest theatrics paid off.

The manager ordered everyone else out of the room, including the fake psychic's human shield aka Gus, leaving him and 'Barry' alone. "How are you, Craig? How's life going for you?" McGraw chuckled hoarsely before he replied, "Good; how's death?" "A little less stuffy thanks to you cutting my arm off. But I gotta ask, why'd you do it, man? I didn't do anything wrong other than mess up a few shows." Shawn said in order to coax a confession out the killer. A psychotic grin came over McGraw as he took out the syringe, "You were doing something wrong all right…"

0000

It didn't take Lassiter long until he ran into Gus. "Where's Spencer?" the head detective yelled. Gus knew he meant business so he answered, "He's trapped with the killer up in the communication cabin; you gotta get there fast or Shawn's a dead man!" "Not if I get to him first!" Carlton shot back as he ran up the stairs and readied his gun.

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Craig took a long look at a close-up shot of Jane as she sang her soft ballad hit _I miss you, baby_. "See that? She's singing to me." "No, I think she's clearly singing to me." 'Barry' remarked before being sucker-punched into submission. "None of you deserved Jane…you didn't love her like I did." "Ok, eww! You like-like Jane?! You're like 50, she's barely 25! That's illegal in all 50 states and territories!" Shawn yelled, thoroughly disgusted at the notion.

With the same creepy smile, Craig uncorked the syringe and held Shawn's face sideways to reveal the main throat artery. "Every day I'd read Jane and how you people used her; none of you understood her like I did so I killed each and every one of you. Every stop, I'd make a tiny leak and collected brake fluid until it was enough. Once you were dead, I'd then cut you up into little pieces and throw them out in any random river or lake."

Shawn struggled to get out the man's grip but the more he did, the closer he risked getting the poison into his bloodstream. "Time to die all over again Barry, and this time, I'll grind this body up and feed it to Jane's pets back home!" McGraw exclaimed as he raised the syringe up in the air, making a bulls-eye to Shawn's neck.

_For a brief moment, Shawn found himself back at the Pizzeria/Deli where he had taken Lassie on their first 'date'. "Okay, I'm officially dead now." Shawn remarked nonchalantly. "Not really," he heard Lassiter's sardonic voice say from behind, "Your mind's just being an idiot."_

Suddenly, Shawn heard two gunshots fire off as McGraw had his hand blown off, courtesy of a certain Head Detective. "NICE SHOT, LASSIE!" Shawn couldn't help but exclaim as he wriggled off the floor and backed away from his writhing attacker. "I could kiss you right…" the pseudo-psychic was interrupted by a gun clicking in front of him. "Spencer, I'd prefer if you don't talk right now before you join Mr. McGraw in a hospital bed." Shawn raised his hands and earnestly replied as Lassiter handcuffed the man, "Deal."


	16. The one where Shawn and Jane say goodbye

A/N: Well, this is the last chapter for _The Diary of Jane_, thanks for all the support, reads and reviews! I just gotta ask the question: should I post another Shassie story? Reviews are welcome!!!!

characters (c) USA

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16, the one where Shawn bids Jane good-bye

As two of McGraw's former bodyguards took him away (Gus had informed them of Barry's murder) along with SBPD patrol, Lassiter refocused his priorities and turned to Shawn. "Didn't get any brake fluid in you?" "Nope, you stopped him just in time, Lassie-face." The fake psychic remarked, still thinking about McGraw's revelation. "You heard the part about there being more victims?" Carlton nodded and replied, "It might take a while but he'll be charged with every single disappearance, provided that Ms. Jane aids in the investigation."

Seizing the few seconds of privacy, the detective pulled Shawn and kissed him momentarily. "Like I said before, if you want to date a serial killer, do it on someone else's shift." He murmured before leaving the cabin. "I didn't know that you were a serial killer, Lassie! You're like Dexter, only you have a license to kill!" Shawn added mirthfully, further aggravating Lassiter's mood.

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"Well, this is it. I still can't believe that Craig did all that." Jane sighed; she hated good-byes. Both Shawn and Gus were with her until John picked her up from the police station. "Well, now you have a chance to get a new manager. I nominate myself to that position." Shawn replied, trying to smooth-talk his way into Jane's pants…again. "Nah, you were a pretty awesome psychic." The pop star giggled. "What about me? I'm much more responsible than Shawn." Gus butted in playfully. "You're good at…what you do."

"Cold," Shawn mocked, noting how utterly destroyed the sales rep became when Jane couldn't remember him. A car horn signaled the threesome that it was time to part ways. The pop star placed a kiss on both Shawn's and Gus's face before taking off. "Stop by Santa Barbara anytime soon!" Gus bid farewell as the car disappeared into the streets.

"If I were you, Shawn, I'd wipe that kiss off your face before Lassie throws a jealousy fit." The pharm rep smirked; payback was going to be a bitch. "I don't think so; Lassie's not the jealous type." Shawn retorted. "He will be once he gets a good look at your track records." Gus warned, causing his friend to tense up. "You wouldn't." "Then you'd prefer your dad knowing about…" The mere mention of Henry taking over made Shawn squirm as he argued, "Gus, come on, don't be such a spoil-sport! You just can't admit that Jane liked me better!"

0000

That night, Shawn sat down on a bar and ordered his first drink for the night. "Must you always start this early?" Lassiter's voice reprimanded as his hand once again covered the fake psychic's drink. "Must you always be this much of a buzz kill?" The two then moved to a more secluded table of the joint where Shawn was impatient to ask a very important question. "So…you, uh, (crap, mouth, don't fail me now) want to go through with this?" "We're adults; well, at least one of us is." Lassiter spat back, annoyed at how childish Spencer could be on these sorts of matters.

"Then _I'm_ putting down some ground rules here." Shawn stated. Carlton looked at him rather interested and allowed him to speak. "First, don't get possessive, real turn-off. Second, no interrupting me during psychic sessions or Xbox time; if you break this one, I give you no nookie." The second rule made Lassiter face-palm himself but nonetheless continued listening. "Third, would it kill you to call me Shawn?" "I think it would." Lassiter snapped back, ready put in some suggestions of his own. "And the fourth rule?" Shawn gave the man a coy smile and said, "I'll think about it once we actually get wasted out of our minds and give each other the best night we've ever had." Lassiter then raised his bottle and said, "I'll drink to that." The fake psychic raised his and toasted, "To whatever this is."

[A/N: I will admit right here…I'm not very good at smut XD]

Three hours later, neither was sober enough to drive so Lassiter called in a taxi. Shawn was hands-y to say the least, putting his hands around Lassie and in his pants so the ride was a particularly embarrassing one. Once they were at Psych, the pseudo-psychic wrestled with finding the right key for a few seconds before the straight-faced detective picked out the right one.

"This place is a downright dump, Spencer." Lassiter slurred as he closed the door. "We (urp!) work better that way; lets the dearly departed run free." Shawn replied before wrapping his arms around the detective's neck. The sheer proximity flustered them both as they went in for a searing lip-lock. The fake psychic could feel through the detective's work shirt and heard a heartbeat that could clock in at nearly 75 miles per hour. _Ha! Mine's going faster that his._ He made quick work of the tie, suit and jacket, leaving Lassie with an unbuttoned dress shirt.

Lassiter rested on top of Shawn for a moment, catching his breath. Unlike Shawn (who probably went straight to sex), Lassiter enjoyed a bit of foreplay as he slipped his hand underneath the other's shirt and slowly lifted the garment off. The simple act of touch by those roughened hands sent Shawn into a blinding tizzy of internal reactions, even more so with bare skin. "Dear God, why the hell did your wife dump you?" he asked with a husky voice, barely able to articulate complete sentences.

"Don't talk." Lassiter scolded before he grabbed Shawn's leg and dipped his head onto the younger man's abdomen. He savored the area for a second, arousing a loud groan from the now submissive Shawn. The fake psychic knew exactly was Lassie was doing; giving him a preview of what's to come if he behaved himself. If that were the case, Shawn hoped Lassiter liked grown-up-choir-boys.


End file.
